


from your body to mine

by Clown_Teeth



Series: devour me, devour you [2]
Category: Murderdolls (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Blood, Blood and Injury, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fear, Fear Play, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Horror, M/M, NSFW, Needles, Notfic, Psychological Torture, RPF, Reader-Insert, Series, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_Teeth/pseuds/Clown_Teeth
Summary: Your gaze flickered back to the needle and vial, your face paling. So he was finally asking you for something. You weren't sure which emotion to feel - disgust, anger, fear - it all raced through you at once, your stomach turning with unease. The hairs on the back of your neck and on your arms were standing straight up, goosebumps covering every inch of your skin. You were almost positive he was watching you in that moment. You wondered what he meant when he said he'd given practically all of himself to you. After all, you were the one being worn thin from the endless torment he put you through. It all felt like a cruel joke; you'd laugh if you weren't so afraid.
Relationships: Ben Graves/Reader
Series: devour me, devour you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012320
Comments: 9
Kudos: 6





	from your body to mine

You'd been staring at the seemingly-innocent gift bag for almost an hour now. You'd walked into your home, and it was placed in the perfect center of your living room table; a glittery, blackpaper gift bag, with red and black tissue paper poking up through the top. It was ominous - overwhelming so. You didn't even want to open it. 

But the reminder that he could be watching you even then made you think twice. 

He had you second guessing all of your actions nowadays; whether he'd be happier if you stayed home or went to work, if he'd be pleased by you feigning happiness at his gifts. Would he hurt you if you acted out, got angry or showed any emotion other than gratitude? It was a sick manipulation, he was spinning you in his web. You wanted to laugh at yourself for being concerned with what would make him happy. But even still, you found yourself reaching for the bag. 

You delicately pulled the tissue paper out, being careful not to rip it; any wrong move and he could get angry with you. You set the tissue on the table, nervously reaching into the black bag, wrapping your hands around something smooth and cylindrical. You withdrew your hand from the bag, setting the small vial on the table next to the tissue paper. Once again reaching into the bag, you also received a packaged syringe and a neatly folded piece of paper. You set the needle beside the vial, and unfolded the note with trembling fingers. You should be used to his notes by now. 

_'You've already been given so much of my body, there's not much of me left. I believe I'm entitled to a similar gift in return - something from your own body, perhaps? Nothing extraordinary for you to do, but it would mean everything to me. I promise it will only hurt for a second. Sharing is caring, you know, and I share almost all of my time with you._

_Eternally, The Ghoul'_

Your gaze flickered back to the needle and vial, your face paling. So he was finally asking _you_ for something. You weren't sure which emotion to feel - disgust, anger, fear - it all raced through you at once, your stomach turning with unease. The hairs on the back of your neck and on your arms were standing straight up, goosebumps covering every inch of your skin. You were almost positive he was watching you in that moment. You wondered what he meant when he said he'd given practically all of himself to you. After all, _you_ were the one being worn thin from the endless torment he put you through. It all felt like a cruel joke; you'd laugh if you weren't so afraid. 

You tossed the note onto the table with an exasperated sigh, the now-cluttered surface doing nothing to ease your worried state. You stuffed the tissue into the bag, setting it to the side. You placed the needle in front of you, eyeing it, debating what to do. You let out a slow breath, trying to calm your nerves. Even if you decided to do it, you weren't sure your hands would stop shaking long enough to do so. 

You stood, walking away from the couch, trying to clear your mind. Maybe if you got away from it all, you could think better. You forced yourself to walk to your kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. You sipped on it, almost embarrassed by how badly your hands were shaking. The whole situation would be ridiculous to you, if you didn't have the lingering threat of danger looming over your head. From your kitchen, you could barely see the bag sitting on the table. It made you want to vomit. 

-

Hours later, you stood in your living room, staring down the needle. You'd long since opened the package, the sterile needle sitting open before you. You almost went through with it twice; you'd also chickened out twice. 

You'd decided that you had no other choice but to give him what he wanted. The threat of danger outweighed any anxiety you had about pricking yourself with a needle. As much as it sickened you, you needed to do what he wanted. 

You needed to be _good_ for him. 

The thought sent a lump to your throat, but you swallowed it back, quickly sitting on the floor in front of the table. You had to act quick, or else you'd back out again. You grabbed your scarf - you'd been doing research on how to draw blood while you debated, wondering if it was even possible for you to do so - and hastily tightened it around your bicep. It was difficult to do one-handed, and you had to grip one end of the scarf with your teeth, turning your head to the side to pull it taught. 

You extended your arm, clenching your fist repeatedly, and flicked your inner elbow, rolling your thumb over the most prominent vein you could find. You grabbed the syringe, pulling the cap to the needle off with your teeth. You held the tip of the needle to your skin, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Normally, you would look away when doctors would draw blood from you; it was nerve-wracking that you had to pay such acute attention to it all. Your heart was racing, and the all too familiar feeling of someone watching you returned. 

You were too scared to look behind you. 

You sucked in a breath between your teeth, biting down on your lower lip as you pushed the needle in, breaking the skin and impaling your vein. You hissed in pain, a sudden stinging feeling erupting in your inner elbow. You carefully drew back the plunger, watching in awe as thick, dark crimson liquid filled the syringe. You weren't sure how much blood it would take to fill the vial, so you filled the syringe completely before you withdrew it, quickly pressing your thumb on the small puncture wound. 

You'd be proud of yourself if you didn't know the reasoning behind your actions. 

You leaned forward, snatching the vial off the table. You used your teeth to twist the cap off, accidentally dropping the vial in your lap. You cursed, picking it up again, before inserting the needle into the vial and pushing down the plunger. Your blood left the syringe differently than it entered, shooting out in a thin stream, quickly filling the once clear vial. Once finished, you tossed the syringe onto the table, and twisted the cap back onto the vial. You set it on the table, maybe a little too hard, but your nerves were shot. You could practically feel your heart in your throat. 

You stood, untying the scarf around your arm, and dropped it on the table. You began cleaning up, carefully putting the syringe in the bag, and took the bag with you to the bathroom. You tossed the bag in the trash before going on a search for bandaids. You sat on your toilet, carefully bandaging the small puncture wound on your inner elbow, feeling disgusted with yourself. You couldn't believe you'd given in to this man's needs, that you let him control you like this. You felt weak, completely controlled. Even stranger, you almost felt _used_. 

You sighed, standing, and went to grab your scarf from the living room. You couldn't bring yourself to be completely shocked when the vial was missing from the table. It was strange, how used to his sick torment you were. You picked your scarf up, turned on your heels, and made your way to your room. This whole ordeal had completely exhausted you. On your way to your bedroom, you found yourself almost wanting to say something to him, something along the lines of, ' _Enjoy it!_ ' 

You frowned, the joke doing nothing to assuage your discomfort. 

You crawled into your bed, leaving the light on, and pulled the blanket over yourself. You were too afraid to sleep with the lights off, not after you caught him staring at you from the corner of your room that night. Maybe you giving him what he wanted will make him back off for a few days. 

Maybe. 

**Author's Note:**

> sooo what's he going to do with the blood guys??  
> thanks to decompdoll for all the help, especially with the note!! ^^


End file.
